


Batman: Arkham Lord

by Rihaan



Category: Batman: Arkham Asylum (Video Games), Batman: Arkham Series
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rihaan/pseuds/Rihaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Batman makes an impression on Gotham, and the world. And their women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rekindled

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so addicted to these games. I’m probably playing one of them right now.
> 
> But Bruce is way too asexual for his own good. I feel like throughout the years, they only hooked him up with Talia, Selina, Vicki and the like simply because the gay rumors with Richard “Dick” Grayson (because that name totally helps) were just overwhelming.
> 
> So, now that I have the majority of the story of the Dark Knight in the Arkhamverse up to the end of Arkham City, I felt compelled to write this.
> 
> We're starting with Arkham Origins, and working our way up.
> 
> I’m taking a lot of liberties here. And I’m okay with that.

“Please, we don’t want any trouble!”

The hardened vigilante shook his head as he tossed the key through the bars, sliding at her feet. He was almost tempted to accuse her of overacting, but as he glanced around, he realized that the rest of them were legitimately that scared – even the one that was chanting at him to defeat the goons was now huddled in the corner, ever since he approached their cell.

Still, Vicki seemed a bit too afraid for a journalist known for her fearlessness – considering that the second she heard that Commissioner Loeb was captured, she had led her team fearlessly into the prison full of escaped homicidal maniacs.

He fought a smirk from coming onto his face at the thought. She noticed, and her character almost faltered.

She learned far too much from him.

“Miss Vale,” he growled, and she almost chuckled at the formality of his tone, “free yourself from here as soon as I give you the all-clear, or until the GCPD comes in.”

She nodded shakily, and snatched the keycard from the floor. She glanced around to the people behind her. They were all staring at him in wonder, transfixed. She cleared her throat. Someone had to say it. “Th-thank you, Batman.”

He nodded, and only through the shadow of his cowl, did Vicki see a smirk shine through. “Stay out of trouble, Miss Vale,” he muttered, loud enough for the room to hear through the emergency alarms blaring throughout the prison, before moving to the broken elevator shaft.

Vicki moved her hair behind her ear as she lifted herself to a standing position. The man knew how to fluster her in ways she couldn’t imagine. Her boyfriend, the Batman.

She really hoped that name would catch on. She was the one who penned it, after all. When he was still a very fresh crime fighter in the streets, a mere rumor, he was being called all sorts of names in the paper from The Crow to the Batty Crusader. She was the first to get a picture of him with clarity – She took a side-picture of him on a gargoyle, from her balcony, and gave it a title – The Batman. She wouldn’t forget that story anytime soon – it was how she was first introduced to the Dark Knight.

_He was looking forward, into the lifeless city, but she knew that he had noticed her long before she opened the balcony door. She made sure that her sheer nightgown caught his eye._

_It was a brisk night out – the moon shown on the tall buildings and the magnificent skyscrapers, encompassing the entirety of Gotham in what seemed to be a bluish glow. It was spectacular._

_Well, from this hotel’s balcony, anyway._

_He was looking down into the streets, completely ignoring the beauty that was around him. She couldn’t blame him. Gotham was a cesspool of monsters and vicious thugs, attacking the innocent and victimizing the defenseless._

_His costume gleamed in the moonlight, his figure still, and more than ever, she knew she was looking at this city’s beacon of light – the man who would shine in this city of darkness._

_She sat in her chair on the balcony, completely ignoring her state of dress – or lack thereof. She crossed her legs demurely, and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her bare knees._

_He really was impressive. He looked dressed and armed to take on the world – a breed of heroism that had never been seen before._

_Her fingers itched. Before she knew what he was doing, she quickly got up and paced back into her apartment._

_The Dark Knight chuckled into the sky. He knew exactly what she was going to do; it was something she had done before. Something he hadn’t seen in years._

_He paused. Should he stay? It would certainly fit the M.O. that he was trying to mold – blend into the night, silent, and without pause – never let them get a second glance. He had frozen before. He had only meant to check on her, and then start patrolling the rest of the Diamond District. But now, she had not only gotten a picture, but she seemed intent on capturing every detail of him._

_He took a deep breath._

_Vicki slowly slid back the glass door and looked to her left. She gripped the door tightly._

_He wasn’t there._

_Her eyes instinctually went forward, and her feet took her to the edge of the balcony, afraid of what she would see. She was trying to avoid the thought of the dangers of a man sitting on an ancient figure, seventeen stories off the ground, but she should check anyway._

_She glanced over the railing – the streets were as still as the night. She sighed heavily. She supposed she deserved that. She had run into the house, hoping he’d still be in the same place, much like a bird or a squirrel._

_She leaned further out to observe the city, for at least a clue to where he was._

_“Careful, Vicki.” The blonde practically jumped in fright as she spun around. His figure was as still as ever, his frown a permanent fixture, as he leaned forward on the gargoyle – on the other side of her balcony. “You wouldn’t want yourself to be the victim of the tabloids.”_

_She held her sketchpad tight in her hands as she instinctually held it over her generous bosom. She shook her head – she wasn’t in High School anymore!_

_“You know how to bring back old habits,” she muttered, before resting her eyes on the crusader. “No one can see me up here.”_

_The Batman just stared at her, and she almost blushed. Her light blue nightgown gave almost nothing to the imagination, and while she wasn’t shy about her body, she didn’t like to put it on display. She silently padded over to her chair again and sat comfortably, with her sketchpad in her hand. She flipped to a fresh page and grabbed her makeshift bookmark – a pencil – and wrote down the name that she planned to put in her next article, under the photograph now hanging in her personal photo darkroom._

The Batman.

_“I hope you don’t plan on drawing me,” he spoke gruffly, and she looked up innocently at him._

_“I thought you changed positions so I could get your good side? Not to mention the lighting is so much better there, and the moon is right behind you. It’s a beautiful shot. Almost intentionally beautiful.”_

_That shut him up. And she began sketching. She thought about drawing the gargoyle first, but reconsidered; the man obviously had patience, but she didn’t want to test it. He looked quite comfortable on the almost-artifact, so she paid more attention to detail throughout – his stillness astounded her, and though she knew he was that immobile before, she felt honored that he would continue. Only his head glanced around, still patrolling. It was just as well – she didn’t plan on getting much detail of his face. She made a note to blur the photo a bit before she released it – she’d keep the original._

_“I want to thank you,” she muttered, edging in some of the finer details. “For checking on me. I don’t know if you think you feel obligated to or something, but I still wanted to thank you.”_

_He said nothing, so she continued. “My opinion doesn’t matter in this, I know… but I don’t like this. What you’re doing. Every night. Putting yourself in danger like this. Cleaning up this city. The police aren’t exactly doing a hell of a job, but to see someone you…”_

_She paused, and cleared her throat, resting her pencil on the pad and putting it down to her side. When she drew, she tended to talk too much. She looked up, and for the first time, his eyes were focused right on hers. His intense, blue eyes cut through her deep, and she shuddered._

_ “But I know  ** why** you do it,” she whispered, her breath shallow. “I know why you feel that this was your call. I know that if you didn’t you’d feel incomplete. This city is hell incarnate, and you’re the only thing giving anyone hope. That’s why I took the picture. No ulterior motives. Not a tabloid. Just proof; proof of hope. Knowing that there is someone out there that can make us feel safe.” _

_She sat unblinking, as her own blue eyes shined, looking at the man she once loved, and dared to love again. “I’ve never felt safer when you were around, Bruce. Thank you for giving Gotham that comfort.”_

_ She gulped when he didn’t respond. Either he knew she had already worked it out, or… that wasn’t Bruce. Still, she wasn’t the most daring journalist in Gotham for nothing, and this was  **so much more** than a hunch. “I support you. I’ve always supported you, baby. Knowing Alfred, I don’t think you’ve been hearing that enough, but what you’re doing is right and  **fantastic** , and…  **dangerous**. So dangerous, it hurts me. I’ve never been with anyone before or after you, and I don’t think I can, so… don’t do anything stupid.” _

_She couldn’t have finished in a lamer way. She blushed and looked away, feeling awkward. She had said her peace._

_She didn’t hear the cowl-and-caped crusader land softly next to her. She jumped as something landed in her lap. She only saw the pointed ears before she twisted her head sharply at the source._

_“I promise,” Bruce Wayne murmured, his face sincere. He covered her delicate hand with his large, gloved left hand. His smile was captivating, his face, in her eyes, as handsome as it always was._

_She looked down at his hand, then back to his unmasked visage. She used her other hand to reach out, and neither flinched when her hand touched his cheek. Her fingers traced the stubble on his beard, before ending at the fringe on the back of his neck. She had never smiled so brightly._

_She exhaled as she found herself kissing him; her euphoria clouding her mind in a haze of wonder, tears clouding her eyes. His hand matched hers as she felt his fingers brush the back of her head._

_They had a lot to catch up on._

Vicki’s face heated as she remembered their reunion. He hadn’t gotten much patrolling done that night.

She tied her hair back into her bun; Looks like his newest gadget wasn’t going to be much use to her right now. The heavy duty elastic band, built for snapping bars together with the flick of her finger, would have been a great tool to use for this situation.

The GCPD, headed by Gordon and Bullock, had come and gone, not giving her and her team a second glance. She assumed they would come back for them after the threat was apprehended. Whether they were going for the man that had broken in and kidnapped Loeb, or the hero trying to stop him, they didn’t care. Hopefully they’d get their priorities straight and go for Black Mask first.

She carefully moved the card towards the front of the cell and waved it slowly until she heard a click. She pocketed the card – Bruce hadn’t found a reason to use the Prison’s master security keycard until now, and she’d rather not reveal to everyone that she possessed it. She surreptitiously glanced around for cameras, and minutely frowned when she saw one in the corner.

She pointed towards the door. “Time to get out of here. Our news camera’s broken, and I’m out of audio cassettes. We’ll work with what we have in the morning.”

“In the morning?” her cameraman repeated, knowing her penchant for publishing as soon as possible.

“If you want to stay up all night, that’s your choice,” She said, holding the door open for them. “I just ran into Batman, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see him again tonight. I’m not typing one word of this story until I get all of it. Pulitzers don’t go to cliffhangers.”

Something told her this was going to be a long night. But first, a visit to the security room. Someone had to wipe that footage.


	2. Rekindled II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the flashback, when Vicki and Bruce reunite. Fluff chapter.

Bruce expected her to try to ravish him, when he felt the ferocity of her kiss, but when his suit fell apart, and he was in nothing but his briefs, she took a tight grip onto his waist and just held onto him.

Just… held him.

He had never felt such love through a simple hug. She felt her tears hit his broad chest, and he sobered.

She had missed him more than he ever knew.

She was his one companion in middle and high school; the only person he confided with. When he started to get private tutors, due to him not… interacting well with others, and his advanced capability to learn, she was his constant partner throughout, visiting the manor every day.

He recalled a memory with a smile – she showed him a drawing that struck a chord within him. She had a very ardent fear of bats, and couldn’t think of anything scarier.

It was meta-human; it was thin and frail, but it was eight feet tall, and its natural, functional wings made his hunchback that much more intimidating.

Bruce wasn’t a fan of bats. He agreed with her, saying that it was what he could imagine running away from, no shame in his tone. She admitted that it was what she had started with was supposed to be a hero, but it came out to be completely different, almost like a villain. Then, almost to herself, she said something that made him think – ‘I suppose it could be both, I guess. Would any bad guy mess with him?’

He forced himself back to the present, kissing his former lover’s forehead. He was a hero for a reason – he wasn’t going to make her cry again. “I’m not leaving you, Vicki. Not again. Not ever.”

She removed her face from his bare chest and parted from him, wiping her tears. “I haven’t cried in years, Bruce. You bring out the worst in me.”

Without warning, she jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. He firmly gripped the bottom of her bare thighs, and she purred. “I’m making sure you never leave me again, Bruce. You belong to the city now, but don’t forget who belongs to you!”

He smiled, pecking her on the lips. “I plan on taking on a lot of responsibility, Vicki. I can’t promise you’ll always be my priority, but as long as I’m breathing, you have me.”

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and sniffed. “That worries me, Bruce.”

His hands tightened around her thighs. “I thought you believed in me,” he smirked, rubbing the stubble of his chin across her cheek.

“I do,” Vicki, muttered. “But I’ve seen this city. What with The Maronis and the Falcones in a feud, and this new guy, Black Mask – he’s almost eclipsed them. I’ve busted a gun shipment or two from the news helicopter, going from a few tips, and… I have no idea where they’re getting such war-ready weapons…”

“Penguin,” he growled, accidentally slipping into his ‘other’ voice. She leaned back and smirked. “Sorry. Oswald Cobblepot. Did a little investigation when he invited me to the Iceberg Lounge a month ago – Bruce Wayne’s first public appearance. He was so pleased; he gave me free roam of the place. He wasn’t suspicious for a second. He still thinks I’m a myth.”

She snorted. “ _ Everyone _ still thinks you’re a myth.” She saw his downcast look. She leaned back further, keeping an arm hooked around him, and gently tilted his chin up. “That’s how legends start, Bruce. You’re Gotham’s savior. The Batman – “

“The Batman?” he questioned, chuckling deeply, his vibrations doing things to her she hadn’t felt in years.

“What name do you have for him?” She gave him a smoldering look.

“You must really like that name,” he groaned, feeling her wetness against his hard member through both offending fabrics.

Though her legs were comfortably wrapped around his waist, they felt weak. “No – just the idea.”

He chuckled. “You’re the only one.” He turned around and gently leaned onto her bed. “Though I doubt Alfred will ever be this excited with me dressing up.”

“If you weren’t so goddamned sexy, that joke would’ve killed the mood,” she moaned, feeling his hardness grind against her womanhood.

He gave a primal grunt. “Likewise, that’s why I risked it.” He put his hand behind her head and held her tenderly. He took her into a deep kiss as she ran her fingers through his hair.

His free hand skimmed the side of her curvy form. He had noticed her braless bust since they were outside, but now he had the chance to truly appreciate her curves. “You’ve… grown,” he whispered huskily, admiring her body’s assets.

“It’s been ten years, baby. Did you think I’ve… ah-ahhhh… stayed the same?” Her fingers roamed over his new, chiseled body, and marveled over his muscles. Then her fingers brushed over his bulge. She stopped, almost unsure what she just touched, and retraced her steps. “Holy shit!”

“Thought I’d stay the same?” he questioned, smirking down at her.

“I grew a cup size, Bruce! This is…” she hooked one finger in the elastic of his briefs and pulled down, and she shuddered as his monster thumped against her stomach. “How is that…?”

“Ten years of build-up?” He got a glare in return. “It’s only two more inches, Vicki.”

“Length _ and _ girth, Bruce! It’s a Soder Cola can! You didn’t think you ruined me enough last time, you had to keep growing!” She stopped, and looked him up and down from her close angle. “If I had any doubt that you’d been using steroids…”

He kissed her right areola, through her sheer nightgown, and she gasped. “You know I don’t like cheating.”

“And yet you always seem to get what you want,” she purred, divesting herself of her modest panties and throwing her gown off. “Glad we both want the same thing…”

“Wow,” Bruce whispered to himself, admiring the woman his girl had grown into. “The cameras don’t give you justice.”

“The  _clothes_ don’t give me justice, Bruce,” She smiled at him, leaning down to kiss him. Her voice lowered, her eyes unsure. “I wasn’t lying before. You’ve been my first and last, Bruce. I told you that I’d wait for you.” She shushed his protest, placing a finger against his lips. “I know you didn’t think I’d mean it that way. Moving on wasn’t in the plan; it wasn’t a sure thing. You coming back to me, was. Allow me a bit of vanity when I say that no one but you deserves me. My love.”

As he did earlier that night, Bruce’s fingers stroked her cheek, his eyes focusing on hers. “You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered, before leaning up to kiss her deeply. She leaned into his hand as his tongue roamed her mouth, and her eyes fluttered open when he fell back. “Sorry to say, that I wasn’t thinking much about us when I travelled. As I… as I kept training, I was sure that even if I came back, you wouldn’t want me. By the time I thought I was ready, I was sure that you moved on.” His hands roamed down her naked back, and she would have shivered had she not been so enraptured. “By the time I  _ knew_ I was ready… I didn’t care. I wanted you back. I don’t know what I was prepared to do if you decided I waited too long.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if you never came by.” She leaned down and licked his ear. “ _ We’re here outside of Wayne Manor, or as this reporter once called it, the love shack of more than a dozen former schoolgirls, several of them now prominent figures and icons. Details at nine. _ “

That got a chuckle out of him. “Going to refrain from admitting your part?”

“Of course. I would’ve let you accuse me. Only way you would have talked to me directly.”

“Alfred would have mailed you a summons,” he grinned, and she laughed out loud.

“God, I love you,” she chuckled, and choked a little. She looked uncertainly at Bruce, waiting for his reaction.

“If I didn’t feel the same, I wouldn’t have come here,” he intoned, deeply and smoothly, knowing she needed reassurance. “I love you, Vicki. Don’t forget that. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I never did, baby,” she smiled, her voice smoky. She looked down his stomach. “I almost want to enjoy the comfort, and the peace we have right now.” She slowly grinded her hips with his, and moaned. “But it’s been  _ far_ too long.”

He took a firm hold of her hips and flipped them over so fast, her hair slapped against her cheek as she squeaked in surprise. He guided himself to her entrance and barely pushed in. “Sorry to say,” he gave her a cocky, Bruce Wayne the playboy-like grin, “We’re not getting any peace for a while.”

They were both just fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a Batman-centric aside, and then we’ll go back to the actual storyline of Origins. I was going to go a bit more in-depth of what happened between the events of them reuniting and the beginning of Arkham Origins, and I may still do that. What do you think?
> 
> I plan on writing through the entire series of these three people, with the occasional female cameo (see parings).
> 
> I will undoubtedly include the Cold as Ice DLC in this story since it’s coming out soon, along with any add-ons that may show up to Arkham Origins, since I heard there will be more. If there turns out to be an Origins 2, as it is rumored, I will write that into it as well. Should be fun.
> 
> Of course, Arkham Asylum, City, and Knight is far down the road in my story, and I will spend at least a couple of months playing it non-stop when it comes out (PSN – RihaanShim), so enjoy the ride.


	3. A Long Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Knowledge of the happenings of Arkham Origins – for now – is somewhat necessary, at least for this chapter. I recommend the Walkthrough on YouTube by ‘Batman Arkham Videos’ if you don’t want to get the game just to read this. The man knows how to play a game, and at the start, it's a damn good game.

“This is going to be a long night.”

“That’s what I was just thinking,” Vicki grinned to herself, strolling through the corridors of the partially destroyed prison. “Thought that was just me.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Loeb is dead.”

She hummed disinterestedly. She didn’t want to be callous, but it was one less person needlessly chasing Bruce around. “I know. News travels fast. I also know that you fought an alligator on top of the roof before jumping into a giant Skyhawk.”

“…Crocodile Man.”

“Uh… I don’t know how to respond to that. Did he bite you?”

She practically heard him smirk through the phone. “He tried. He’s a mutation. That’s all I know for now. I found a drone going through the prison, and I recovered the memory card. I’m taking it to the cave now.”

“Oh, so you’ve already left? Guess that explains the Skyhawk.”

“Didn’t have a choice. Gordon was on me. Completely ignored the mutant, and Black Mask had already gotten away. I need to find who sent the drone. By the time you get back to the cave, I’ll already be gone.”

“No doubt. I have to find the security room. I used the master keycard. Gordon and SWAT walked right by us.”

She heard a heavy sigh. “Of course they did.” He was quiet for a moment, no doubt thinking how he would repay them if he had the chance. She had the feeling that if Bruce was going to be out all night, Gordon was going to be busy as well, tracing his steps, not to mention rounding up the Blackgate escapees. “No worries, though. The Security room was probably smashed. I checked the cameras throughout the building, they’re not feeding to anything.”

She stopped walking, and groaned tiredly. “Good, because I’m lost.”

She heard his chuckle, and like that, she was talking to the calmer side of him. “I’ll send you the map. Before you go, check on Quinn. I’ll send you her safe spot. She’s supposed to go there when something like this happens. I hope she didn’t forget.”

“I’m sure she’s alright,” Vicki soothed her boyfriend, walking again at a quicker pace. “She can defend herself, that’s for sure. She doesn’t have the handicap of having a crew surrounding her; she doesn’t need to keep secrets. In her profession, it’s suggested that she has a fighting background; I  _had_ to be captured.” She sounded almost angry with herself.

“You seemed okay when I came in. Are you?”

“I’m fine, really. They were just mocking us, only interested in getting us out of the way. I’m lucky to live in a city where ruthless thugs who haven’t seen a woman in years are too stupid to take advantage of a situation.”

She heard him struggle not to laugh, and that was her intention, albeit how dark that joke was. “Don’t talk like that, Vicki. I don’t believe in jinxes, but… Quinn hasn’t contacted me yet.”

“She’s  _ fine_, Bruce. She can more than handle herself. If anything, she’ll be pissed at how they ruined her Christmas dinner, with how late she’ll be working tonight to help fix this mess.”

She walked in comfortable silence, before pulling out her PDA for the prison’s schematics Bruce sent. She quickly found her location arrow, and began walking toward her waypoint, Quinn’s office.

“We need to set it up,” the voice intoned lowly over her phone, and again, she found herself talking to the other persona – The Batman. “Tonight… I have a bad feeling about tonight.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in jinxes.”

“Tonight, I do.” His voice wavered. Before she could ask, he continued. “This is the catalyst we need. Tell your crew that they were captured so easily, that it was time they learn self-defense. Don’t tell them anything else. Next time you’re in trouble, be careful not to show them too much, but enough to know that the classes are paying off.”

“I’ll send the message out,” She agreed, familiar with the game plan. They had talked about what would happen once she was targeted, since she was a very public figure, and her journalism got more than a few vengeful people in trouble. Rather than quitting, which was what neither of the two suggested, since she enjoyed her job  _far_ too much, they started with the idea of a starting mold for her character of investigative journalist Vicki Vale. First step was her learning self-defense and other fighting styles, something she was already quite adept at.

The next step was Bruce’s idea, and she was certainly not fighting it. “I haven’t been in my apartment for months,” she smiled. “I guess I’ll have to go there to pack tomorrow.”

“Hold on,” he stopped her, and she frowned. “We still need an official forwarding address for you, and while I have a house in mind, we need an excuse for you to move.” He was quiet for a second. “A story. A big one. Groundbreaking.”

Vicki didn’t think. “The Black Mask’s identity.”

There was silence. “I can do that. I can also give you all the identities of the assassins.”

She stopped walking. “What?”

“Oh.” There was an uncomfortable silence.

She narrowed her eyes. “Talk.”

“The Crocodile told me that Black Mask hired assassins to kill me.”

“Assassins.”

“Uh… yeah.”

“More than one.”

“Afraid so.” He was silent for a moment, and he heard a raspy voice in the background. “Eight. Croc was one of them.”

“And you tell me this now?”

“I’ll be fine,” he twisted her words back on her – she hated when he did that. There was a very prolonged pause, and she strained to hear the sounds playing from the ‘Batcomputer,’ as she’s accustomed to calling it. She heard a few gunshots, and she swore she heard a neck snap, but that was it. Then it was quiet. The video feed was probably over.

“Bruce, tell me everything.  _ Now_.”

“Black Mask apparently put up a Fifty million dollar bounty on my head, dead or alive – “

“Stop!” She breathed deeply to herself. “Okay. Go on.”

“This is a one night only deal. Tonight. When you find Quinn, take her with you. The Batwing will pick you up after it drops me off at the Jezebel. Make sure no one’s around.”

“Bruce…”

“I’ll keep the video on the screen for you to watch. I…” he paused. She knew his inner turmoil. On the one hand, he didn’t want her out there. On the other, he’d be admitting that he didn’t know how he was going to handle this mess.

“Neither of us are staying in tonight, Bruce. I’ll bring in Quinn, because you need someone who can access the computer all night. It will be a godsend for her, she’d rather do that than paperwork.” She put her PDA in her overcoat pocket and put her hand on her hip. “I don’t need to tell you to be careful. Bruce, for the love of god,  _be careful_.”

“I will be. I promise.” She heard the sincerity in his voice, as it was every time he said those words to her. “Did you find her?”

“I’m almost at her office.”

“I’ll stay on the line.” Pause. “Any plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“What?” That came out of nowhere. “No. Might attend the annual GCPD Party at ‘My Alibi’. But I could ditch it. Not like they’re going to love the fact that I’m there, listening in on their latest exploits. Just felt like voicing my opinion on the fact that the poster promotes ‘Gotham’s hottest babes.’”

“Disappointed you didn’t get an invitation?”

She smirked as she stopped outside of the Doctor’s office. “Only you can make that sound sweet, Bruce.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere a bit classier?”

“Like a strip club?” She murmured with distaste.

Bruce laughed, and she smiled. She loved how she could make Bruce smile. It was a challenge most days, but she always felt accomplished when she did. “No. The New Year’s Eve gala event was what I had in mind.”

She smiled. “Our first date…”

“Lot of firsts that night, if I remember…”

She laughed. Her mother, rest her soul, would have killed her if she found out she lost her virginity the same night she had her first kiss. “Best night of my life. To be a teenager again…”

“No thanks. Meek and shy Vicki dancing with clumsy, shyer Bruce?”

“You weren’t clumsy and shy when it counted, dear,” she whispered through the phone. When he cleared his throat, she chuckled. “And  _I_ was the meek one.”

“Fair enough.” He cleared his throat again. “What do you say? Want to dress up and talk for hours with people who you’ve never met before in uncomfortable high heels and a half-asleep playboy on your arm?”

“You sure know how to woo a girl.” She knocked on the door. “It’s a date. I’m glad I get to be your date this time. Did Carie or Mina cancel?”

“No, I didn’t ask them.” To keep up his playboy persona, Bruce brought fashion models and actresses to his public events. Vicky was never really into the events, and their relationship wasn’t public, and it would be suspicious for him not to have at least one girl on his arm. Together, they had shared a few of her female classmates back in high school, and if she were honest with herself, she was turned on at the thought of Bruce with other women. She was sure he was thinking it, but she had brought it up – Bruce would have to sleep with at least a few of them, in order to keep rumors from spreading. Some of them he had connected with at some level enough to bring home, and even invited back a few times, but most of them were lucky enough to get a good night kiss.

“We’ve been doing this for two years, Vicki. I think it’s time Bruce Wayne gets himself a girlfriend.”

She gasped. “It must really be Christmas!”

He chuckled. “Not for a few hours, dear.”

“When you come back, we’ll… celebrate,” she whispered salaciously.

Bruce hummed to himself. “Looking forward to it.” She heard a little bit of rumbling over the phone. “Seems to be a bit of turbulence. Hold on a second.” She listened to the familiar tones of the buttons in his batwing. “The control towers are jamming my system. I have to get close to one to see the problem. It might disconnect.”

“That’s okay. Call me when you leave.” She winced at the static from the interception, and ended the call. “Harleen,” she muttered to herself, and knocked on the door harder. She twisted the knob, and to her surprise, it opened.

Her hand slowly went to the switch, looking for movement. When the light buzzed on, she blinked. The room was pristine, in normal condition. “Harle-?” She started again, and stopped. She heard something. Moaning? No. Humming.

She stepped closer to the door that connected the two room-office, and tentatively knocked.

“Coming!” said a very familiar sing-songy voice, and Vicki groaned. “You’re lucky, the song just ended – ” She opened the door. “Vicki? Ah! I mean – ” She ripped the earbuds out of her head and hid the blue cord behind her back. “Hi, Vicki! Merry Christmas!”

“It’s not Christmas yet, Quinn,” She drawled. She could hear the next song begin to play. “But I see you got my present for you.”

“Oh… you hear that?” She grinned embarrassingly. “It’s a nice gift. Thank you.”

She shook her head and reached out to hug the blonde. “It’s okay, honey. At least you’re safe.”

“Safe? In a prison? Not any safer than usual.” She joked, letting the buds fall from her hands to wrap around the slightly older blonde. “Thanks for the concern, though.”

“What?” She pulled away from the girl. “What are you talking about?” She sniffed the air. “What were you  _doing_ in here?”

“Uh… paperwork?”

The older blonde stood back and crossed her arms. The doctor relented.

“Okay, so I didn’t just open your gift early. Ooh, let me show you!” She grabbed her hand and pulled her along, her earbuds happily skipping on the floor behind her. Vicki let out a sigh as she caught the buds mid-skip – this was why she couldn’t keep nice things. “I bought you a Walkman with no speakers, Quinn. You  _need_ these.”

“Sorry!” she squeaked, grabbing the buds and putting them in her pocket with the rest of her pre-Christmas present. She stopped at the corner of the room. “Bruce bought me a little oven! Not an Easy Bake Oven either, a really good, miniature one.”

“A toaster oven?” She cocked her head to the side, looking at the machine.

“Nope, bigger! A regular toaster oven would be lucky to fit two full bagels in it. This one fits nine!” She gave a cute little smirk. “I tested it.” She looked towards the oven again and gave a huge whiff of the air. “So I wanted to thank him by baking a fruitcake. What d’ya think?”

Vicki was silent as she stared at the undersized oven / over-sized toaster oven, and looked back at Harley. “You have no idea what happened out there?”

“Um… no. Was there a breakout?”

At that moment, Vicki’s cell phone rang, and she quickly pulled it out and answered.

“Bruce… I don’t think you’re going to believe this…”

Harleen Quinzel frowned. “Did I miss something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments/kudos are very appreciated. What do you think of the presence of the Clown Princess of Crime added to the mix, corrupted by Batman before Joker ever got the chance?
> 
> As you can tell by this story and Harry and Harley (I wrote this before I started that story), I don't prefer Joker and Harley. There was a time I liked it, but not really anymore. Occasionally cute when the scenes are cute, but mostly uncomfortable to watch, and especially read. Holy shit, fanfiction readers love to remind you "Hey this is a really abusive couple, but we love it <3"


	4. Two Birds, One Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going a bit out of order for this chapter. These events are before Arkham Origins, seeing the relationship between Bruce, Vicki and Harley, and how they work together as a team. Also... some troubled relationships.

“Oh, Hello Alfred! Long time, no see.”

“Miss… Vale?” His carrying bag dropped at his feet, much like his entire expression. It was a bit overdramatic for her tastes.

She pressed a button on her headset. “It seems that Mr. Pennyworth is finally back from vacation.”

“And his first thought was to check on me in the cave? I’ll take it as a good sign.” He sat back, watching the court proceedings with mild interest.

It was a quiet night in Gotham – he suspected everyone, even the regular thugs, were interested in the case that was on the Gotham City News Network – the only News Station that was allowed in the courtroom – the case of Salvatore Maroni. He was perched across the street from the courthouse, peering through thermal goggles.

Of course, the police patrolling the courthouse was abysmal, at best – almost as if they were inviting a break-in, break-out attempt. It was one of the many reasons he felt his presence was required.

He’d be damned if Maroni got away with this – not figuratively, at least. He had gotten the evidence stacked against the man, and while he himself couldn’t come in as a witness, he had confidence that Maroni would be put away for a long time. He wasn’t the head of the family, but he knew it would be a crushing blow.

He was more worried at an escape attempt. It was something the Maronis had been known for, and they did it with a certain flair and style.

He was concerned for the attorney, especially. Harvey Dent strutted across the floor, speaking words that Bruce half-listened to, the bug that he had wired into the P.A. System speaker months ago giving him loud and clear information. He was impressed by Harvey’s drive to put the family away – that being said, he was disgusted by his lack of care about his own welfare. His fiancé, Grace, at least had the common sense to go into a safe-house, having accepted Bruce Wayne’s offer, unlike Dent, who just waved the invitation off.

He shook his head. Harvey had to know what he was getting into. Batman may have gathered the evidence, but Harvey had gotten the more… obtainable data from the GCPD. The things that Maroni had done to anyone that wanted to testify against him… the man had a known history. But history was not going to repeat itself. Grace was going to be safe – it was up to Harvey to protect himself.

He spied the moderately chilled audience – Lieutenant Gordon seemed particularly heated, seated next to his recently detached partner, Arnold Flass, and Commissioner Gillian Loeb. He flicked his finger on the goggles, and as they refocused, he spoke again. “Tell him that I’m glad he’s back.” He heard Vicki relay the message. His sensitive hearing picked up his response.

“Yes, well, it’s good to be back. It’s been years since I’ve seen you, Miss Vale. I’m also glad to see that he’s alive and… erm, alive, at least.”

His girlfriend was quick to respond. “You helped him design the suit, Alfred. If you’re that uncertain of your skills…”

“I did everything I could, Miss Vale. It’s a miracle Master Bruce is still in one piece.”

Vicki sighed. “See, that’s what I missed about you, Alfred. There are just too many positive people in this world; sometimes, you just have to step back, and remind us all that taking risks leads to an inevitable, painful death.”

The Batman refrained from chuckling. He had a reputation to keep.

“Extreme risks lead to extreme consequences, Miss Vale. And for a moment, I thought Master Bruce roped you into this. You’re  _supporting_ these… escapades!”

She turned around completely in her swivel chair, her eyes piercing. “Did you  _really_ expect anything different from me, Alfred? As I’m speaking to you now, the idea of a ‘ _Batwoman_ ’ out there to watch his back isn’t a half-bad idea. You can believe me when I tell you that I’d be on his side in this.”

She turned back to her computer, but not without a few words. “Alfred, you don’t know how the rest of Gotham lives. You live here, in Wayne Manor, under the best security money can buy. The shit that happens outside of this place… it’s atrocious, even now. Thomas and Martha wouldn’t have liked it, and you know it. He’s making a difference out there, Alfred; you’re just too blind to see it.”

_ “We’re _ making a difference,” Bruce corrected her, viewing through his goggles’ second mode, that he had dubbed ‘Detective Vision’. “His lawyer’s heartbeat is escalating. Looks as if the trial is almost over.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Vicki smiled at his comment of their teamwork. She focused on one of the monitors that was recording everything through Bruce’s goggles. “He seems to be the only one really sweating bullets. The commissioner seems calm. Harvey’s pulse is racing, but I think he gets a kick out of performing in front of his audience.” She tilted her head. “Should it be suspicious that all of the guards outside are all calm?”

“I’ve noticed that,” he said slowly. “I also noticed the lack of guards. Four armed at the entrance. It’s a quiet night. There should be a lot more available to patrol than that.”

“There are a lot of cops inside, all armed,” she observed.

“The Maronis have a lot of connections. Either all the officers here are the only ones not getting paid off, or Maroni is staging this whole trial, with every cop he has on his payroll in attendance.”

“Both are scary thoughts,” Vicki whispered, the number seeming a lot bigger to her now. “I’ll write down their names.”

Alfred watched on, helpless and forgotten, and in a silent huff, marched back to the elevator.

“Uhh… Bruce? Have you ever seen a Judge packing heat?” She focused on the small orange object in the well-hidden holster of Judge Faden.

“He never goes anywhere without it. It’s on safety, though. I checked his records before the trial. Faden is on someone’s  _payroll_.” He gritted his teeth, his chapped lips thin. The worst kind of criminals were the ones in plain sight. “But even he can’t deny the evidence. The jury is clean, only one is corrupt, and he’ll buckle quickly to the majority. Faden can’t issue a light sentence – it would be too much bad press for Faden to let Salvatore off easy.”

He spoke again after a few seconds, more to himself. “He’ll be sent to Blackgate. Maximum security cell – Judge won’t have a choice, what with all the evidence and overwhelming support for Maroni’s head. He’ll be broken out; that’s inevitable. His father will let him stew for a few days, teach him a lesson, before retrieving his son. Then he’ll be a fugitive. I’ll catch him and everyone who broke him out.”

Vicki nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “And you’re hoping the pattern will continue? That ‘Big Lou’ will send more to rescue his son and the guys?”

His goggles zoomed in on Sal Maroni, who looked unerringly calm. “I don’t think he’ll be looking to rescue his guys, unless he’s short-staffed. He’ll just get his son or any stray family. But those men will be my new targets.”

She frowned in thought. “Luigi will get suspicious. Both times, every man who was on the assignment to break Sal out of prison, arrested? Even if he believed in coincidences…”

“He’ll never believe in his son again. They’ll both know that I’m watching him. He won’t step out of line again. And if he does, I’ll bring him in.”

“And Lou will think twice about breaking him out,” She finished. She tapped the desk in front of her, her short nails barely making a patter. “And the pattern continues. With any hope, He won’t even have enough men willing to break him out a third time, by orders or by loyalty.” She breathed easily. “And it all depends on how tonight will be.”

“Yes, it does,” he said softly, moving his goggles to Harvey. “He’s getting cocky.”

“He’s exploiting Maroni. He knows he has a short temper. If he snaps in the middle of the courtroom, this trial won’t be that much longer.”

He was quiet for about a minute. “This isn’t going to end well for him.”

“What makes you say that? Because he doesn’t have any protection?”

“When Maroni is being humiliated, he tends to be fixated.” He turned back to Maroni, and sure enough, his heartbeat was faster. He saw his fists clench, and his leg shake under the table. He was ready to pounce.

Hold on…

“What’s that in his pocket?” Vicki noticed it at the same time he did. Since his goggles were at maximum zoom, he could only focus to the best of his abilities.

“It’s a vial,” he muttered. “But I don’t know what’s in it. It’s not picking up on my goggles, but you can bet it’s lethal.” He turned them off, folded his goggles and clipped them to his belt. “That’s why his attorney was nervous,  _he_ sneaked it through,” he muttered to himself, pulling out his Cryptographic Sequencer. He turned his dial to the latest frequency he had found the GCPD on. He held the button as his voice deepened.

“Sal Maroni is carrying a vial. Right Pocket. Sal Maroni is carrying a vial.”

“Who is this? Hello?!”

Great. Detective Harvey Bullock. If Howard Branden and Commissioner Loeb were the spokespeople for corrupt cops, then Bullock was the poster boy. Still, at least he got the information. He closed the connection.

“Hopefully, he’ll relay the message to the captain, or anyone inside the room.”

Batman shook his head. “He can’t, all their radios are off. He’ll more likely get in contact with one of the guards outside. Maybe he’ll call Gordon on his cellphone, but he’s too by-the-books not to turn his cellphone off.” He unclipped his binoculars and turned them on again. None of the guards have moved, so he focused inside the building, and quickly noticed an empty seat. “Gordon’s gone.”

“Is that him in the lobby?” she questioned, the only giveaway being his firearm on his side. “Huh… he’s on the phone.”

“That’s unlike him to keep it on,” the Dark Knight mused, though he was grateful nonetheless.

Vicki thought to herself for a moment. “His daughter’s at home by herself. Maybe he kept it on in case she called.”

“Gordon has a daughter?”

Vicki chuckled. “I like to read files, too. She was living with her mother until recently. Barbara Gordon, fourteen. Seems to have quite the crush on you and your ethics, says her record. One of the many reasons she left her mother in Keystone.” She giggled.

Gordon was still on the phone, so Bruce played along. “You’re not telling me something, Vicki.”

“She blames her mother for the divorce.” She smiled slyly. “Apparently, her mother blames her father for an indiscretion he never had.”

“Funny.” The monotone voice was something he was getting famous for. She hoped to break that habit.

“That’s what you get for screwing the brains out of one of GCPD’s finest, Bruce.”

Bruce grimaced; not from the memory, but from the consequences.

* * *

Sarah Essen, a former Detective of the GCPD, and a regular informant of the Batman. She had approached him first, seeing from a distance as he handled a group of drug dealers. They were all tied up, and before he could disappear, she pleaded for him to stay. After making sure the entire gang of thugs were unconscious, she told him her address, and offered a secret alliance. She would tell him any information he needed, only if he used it to continue doing what he did.

He had watched her for a week. Though he could have stopped watching one night into the surveillance, seeing as she waited up hours for him in her night clothes – flannel top and bottom – covering herself with a light brown trench coat, before falling asleep on her sofa.

Six nights in a row, starting at about two in the morning, after her shift. It was necessary, of course – The GCPD was rather adamant in their views on vigilantism, and it could have been entrapment. She was a new transfer, and he did not yet have the opportunity to read her file – not for lack of trying. The Police building had tightened up security lately.

Still, it was rude to do. On the seventh night, he showed up early, and knocked lightly against the patio door. He had considered sneaking inside the house and talk to her from the shadows, but thought better against it. She was not only attractive, but she was a cop – she shouldn’t have to worry about her security system, which was pretty good – ever since they expanded from business to commercial, WayneTech made the best.

She graciously let him in, and they talked. He noticed how she eyed him up and down. He chose something different from the armored suit he usually wore. This one was much simpler and skin-tight, offering him less protection, but more stealth. She didn’t ask questions – she could tell he was still the same man, because of his voice, and because they were the only two who knew about this meeting.

Of course, as he would soon discover, she wasn’t eying him just for his change in wardrobe.

She gave him some invaluable information. The hide-outs of some wanted thugs that were out of the GCPD’s reach, and locations of enemies that the police had turned a blind eye to, lining their pockets in return. She gave him the location of Black Mask’s latest hiding place. She gave him the names of some of the more corrupt cops with back-end deals that he had no idea about.

And, with trembling hands, she handed him a small flash memory card.

“The National Criminal Database,” she whispered. Her brown eyes met his blues, and he struggled not to turn away from her scrutiny, as if she might know who he was from her intense stare. “Please, Sir – use it for good.”

“I will,” he swore to the woman, now convinced beyond all doubt that she was the purest the GCPD had to offer – willing to do whatever it took to keep the justice. He turned away, and only got a few steps, before he remembered what his girlfriend told him. “It’s Batman.”

She smiled. “Vale’s been trying to coin that term for a few months, now.”

“It’s grown on me.” He slowly strode over to the patio door, before he stopped again. “This night never happened, of course. But if it were to happen again,” he glanced over to the glass doors, “put a black vase on the patio table.” He had noticed that there were several in the room. Analysis had shown that none of them were memorials; they were simply there for decoration. “Or anything black,” he quickly added, just in case he made a wrong assumption.

She nodded, and he flew into the night.

Well, not that far into the night. He stuck around, curious. She gave him all of that information, and expected nothing back except the safety of the city. He placed the memory card into his gauntlet computer and stared at the information that appeared. No virus, no spyware, just the information that she had promised. He was able to get so much done on the field with this.

He smiled – a rare sight for him. This was why he did what he did; because there were good people like her around that didn’t deserve to be in the middle of this mess. He looked up, wondering how he was going to repay her, and his eyes widened.

He quickly looked away.

“Hey! We were watching that! Eep!” Harleen’s voice was muffled, and he just knew it was by Vicki’s hand.

“Girls,” he growled, and Vicki chuckled nervously into the intercom.

“Well, it’s not like this is a surprise! We all knew she had the hots for ya!” Harleen spoke into her headset. “Granted, the information she gave you was immeasurable, and we wrote it down for you, you’re welcome, but – ”

“I think Quinn is trying to say that we thought you were going to close the deal with her,” Vicki informed him, with a small amount of guilt. “It seems like she tried to. Looks like the offer is still on the table. Or, in the chair, to be more literal.”

He quickly leaped off the building and glided the opposite way into the next district. “We’ll talk about this later,” he muttered tiredly, the image still in his head – Her nude form, lying in the chair perpendicular to him, the moon shining perfectly on her through the patio door, her hips rising off her seat -

“If you wanted to,” Vicki’s voice cut through to him, “you could repay her for her tireless work to help you. It probably took a lot of favors to get that database of information. Not to mention, that’s a very expensive flash card to hold all of it. She’s well off, but I don’t think money could have gotten that. That isn’t the  _Gotham_ Criminal Database. That’s  _National_. I can’t begin to comprehend how she got that information.”

“It’s why her file is so protected,” Bruce muttered, almost to himself. “GCPD probably doesn’t even have it. It’s why she has such a high ranking as a detective, being so new. She’s federal.”

He stopped on a rooftop, and pondered to himself. His cape flapped behind him, the sounds it made giving him a calming feeling. “She knew I would search for her file. She didn’t give me all of this information because  _she_ wanted to. Someone else wanted to give me this. Whoever transferred her is keeping an eye on me. Someone national.”

“FBI?” Harleen queried, her eyebrows scrunched together. She thought the entire thing was a bit far-fetched, but his over-the-top hunches had a good reputation.

“I don’t know,” He turned around and took off again. “But I  _will_ find out.”

* * *

When she heard the tapping at her door, she awoke.

She wished she hadn’t. She had fallen asleep immediately after she had taken care of herself, as she usually did, except that she had done so in her chair, in the sitting room. In front of her clear glass patio door.

She scrambled for her flannel pajamas, which were beside her, and she was undoubtedly giving whoever was at the door a show.

She fully intended to threaten whoever was at the door with their life. So when she looked up, stepping into her pajama pants, to see the caped crusader, her skin flushed a deep crimson.

It just  _had_ to be the one man in Gotham that couldn’t be threatened. She meekly stepped over to the patio, fumbling with the buttons on her top, and pulled back the door.

She was slightly intimidated by his frown; did he miss the view, or did he not get enough? Her cheeks pinked with anger. “Look, sir – !”

_ “Who do you work for? _ ” The Batman growled, and she involuntarily took a step back.

“What?” She took a second to gather her wits. While she was pleased that he had skipped over that embarrassing moment, it seemed to be leading to an even more awkward conversation.

“The National Criminal Database. Someone wanted to give me this information. You were the messenger. Who is it?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that!” Her arms wrapped around her bosom protectively – she didn’t exactly know how Batman had managed to get so much information so far from the underbelly of Gotham, but she didn’t picture the few female thugs getting their arms broken to get them to talk. Perhaps he was a bit more… creative with them? “Just be happy with the information I gave you. Everything else I gave you came from  _me_!”

He frowned deeper. “How do I know you’re telling the truth if your biggest help isn’t even yours?”

Sarah glared at the could-be intruder, her hand still on the sliding door handle. “You wouldn’t have trusted my words, anyway. You’d have them all checked out before you do anything. Don’t pretend that you  _trusted_ me for a moment.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I trusted you to help me. I would have checked the information for accuracy, not based on your judgment. But I  _don’t_ check  _planted_ information.”

Her eye twitched. “You’re bluffing. You’d check it. For the good of us all, you’d check. You want to stop Black Mask just as much as we do – “

“No, you don’t.” He stepped inside her door and closed it behind him, and she backed up a few steps. “We’re not talking about Black Mask. He’s not a big threat. Not as much as Falcone, or Maroni. Not yet. What potential have you seen in him? He hasn’t done anything big yet. No. It’s not Black Mask. Who is it?”

She stumbled into the side of her recliner chair – the chair that she had sat in just a few minutes previously, portraying the man in front of her in a far more pleasant light. “You just broke into my house…” her voice trembled.

“You just aided and abetted a ‘ _criminal_ ‘,” he said immediately, his voice sarcastic. “You gave me invaluable information today, Essen. I  _won’t_ be telling anyone this. So tell me who I can thank.”

She gulped quietly. “I suppose just me would suffice.” He stepped closer, and she fell back into the chair, her legs blocked between the arm and his own legs. He leaned down over her and peered into her scared, widened eyes.

“Tell your bosses I want a word with them. Find a way to contact them. I’ll be waiting.”

He stood back, but she lay still, paralyzed. She heard his footsteps as he walked back through the patio door.

“One more thing – you might want to buy some curtains.” She had hopped up at that comment, her face quickly coloring again, but he was already gone.

She wiped her hair from her forehead in confusion, her feet taking her to the patio door. Of course, she looked out and craned her neck to the sides, and of course, he was nowhere to be found.

It seemed that she had a call to make.

But first, she had yet another problem to take care of. She had never been more turned on in her life.

* * *

The rest was a decidedly happier memory. It was only after she had finished two more rounds of self-pleasure (her eyes completely focused on the deserted patio beside her), forced herself to sleepily rise from the chair, and stalked to her room when he stepped out of the shadows. She dialed the number and fell into bed, waiting for the phone to pick up. She murmured her keyword to whoever picked up the phone, and was told to please hold. As she was explaining her predicament to one of her superiors, absolutely certain she would be sent back to New York City, her wired phone was snatched from her hands.

Her neck could’ve snapped at the force she popped out of the bed, now fully awake. His voice rasped into the phone rather deeply, to the point where if she wasn’t so in shock and utterly frightened at what just transpired, she might have wanted to go another round.

He was half-way through threatening her boss when she stopped and realized that he couldn’t have just entered the room as she was dialing. He was waiting.

He was  _watching_ her.

Her mouth slackened as she subconsciously covered her clothed breasts. While she was watching the patio door as she fingered herself, only a small part of her had hoped that he was waiting until she went about contacting her superiors. But she had rationally assumed that he was long gone – he had a city to protect, after all. And he was watching her enough already. She had a feeling that she had been spied on all week.

It was beyond embarrassing that the hunch didn’t come to her as he watched her from the closest vantage point he had ever been.

Her fingers twitched; her gun in her drawer, while an easy way to take away her embarrassment, would do nothing to solve any long-term problems.

The man was a pervert. He had waited twice, technically  _three times_ for her to masturbate, and then stepped in to embarrass her even further. It was degrading. It was beyond humiliating.

He turned around, his teeth bared, his hand giving the plastic phone minute cracks and chippings as he interrogated her bosses through the phone. According to the raised voices on the other line, he was getting to them.

Her fingers twitched again. While she was worried for the welfare of her phone, she was distracted more by the rather obscene bulge in his skintight suit. She blinked once or twice, almost not believing the sight. She would have assumed that it was a jockstrap, according to the rather thin, seemingly sensitive, material he was wearing, but she had taken a glimpse or two when he was there earlier under more pleasing terms, and he was  _not_ sporting that earlier.

“We’ll be in touch,” he growled, before slamming the phone. He shook his head, and looked over to the side, his eyes glazed over. Then he refocused on her.

She licked her lips.

* * *

“Code name ‘J’,” he muttered to himself, several hours later. That was the only information he had gotten from the more corporate men in black, and he didn’t need to search the Batcomputer to find that he had never faced a big-time Villain with a name beginning with ‘J’ – strange, but true – so he had no idea who they were so worried about.

He suspected that they didn’t know anything. They had sent an intelligence agent that had gathered almost everything except where this ‘J’ was. That was how she came across the information she had, and didn’t tell the others in her force.

She didn’t want to sit on the information, and she came to him so he could use it. It was also why she had instant access to the database. She had been here for two months, on her six month mission, and had gotten nowhere. The database was useful for identifying key suspects in any unsolved murders, and would probably link her to ‘J’s past, and discover any trace to him whatsoever, but she hadn’t gotten any closer.  _She_ suggested to  _them_ the idea of a vigilante.

He heard a small muffled voice nearby. He reached over and picked up the cowl from the floor. He looked over to the peaceful sleeping form of Sarah Essen.

He knew she had already figured it out. Just a month earlier, she had shown up at his mansion, alone, to interview him. He had shamelessly flirted with her, wearing a loose bathrobe, and while at first she reacted almost neutrally, she quickly grew witty at her responses, and he caught her smiling once or twice.

‘Thank You,’ was the last thing she told him, shaking his hand as he led her out of his home. It was the sincerity in her voice that made him even more suspicious. He knew he had been too obvious and a touch too lewd – who flashed their crotch at a Police Officer?

He had Quinn put a tracker on her car while she was in the house, and he couldn’t help but notice that she went directly back to the station.

He lived in Vicki’s ‘public’ apartment for two weeks in response, fully expecting a raid. The fact that it never happened was the only reason she had his attention a week ago, when she asked him for his time.

Besides, it was a bit rude to make love to a woman wearing a mask – she didn’t seem to be unhappy that he shed it before they got past foreplay. In fact, she seemed more pleased at the thought that she was right.

“We missed the view – could you guys do it again with the mask on?”

Bruce groaned, and Sarah shifted a little, her arm draping across his chest. “I don’t think I’m up for it.”

Harleen giggled in the background. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“She has a point,” Vicki grinned. “But I hope you still have the stamina, at least – reported shots fired in the Bowery. I’m sending the Batwing to you with a more padded wardrobe change.”

Bruce was already slipping out from her loose grip, before kissing her forehead. “With some distance between here and there, right?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Can’t have it land in her driveway, can we?”

* * *

Batman watched as a screaming Salvatore Maroni was apprehended and dragged out of the courtroom for having a deadly substance. It would have been more ideal to have someone – somehow – slip the vial out of his pocket and continue the trial without him knowing, but it would give a better case for the next trial. He smiled at the distinctly unnerved look Dent had before pocketing his goggles.

“I’ll call Grace and tell her the semi-good news,” Vicki muttered, sighing.

“Don’t feel too bad – he’s still going to jail for this.”

“Yeah, but it feels more…  _final_ , I guess, to get a sentencing… it just seems anti-climactic this way.”

Batman shrugged. “I got the result I wanted. Feel like celebrating?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Gray Ghost marathon?” He asked hopefully.

“You know I’ve seen them all, Bruce.”

“The fact that you have before I even met you was one of the many reasons I fell in love.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I’ll get out the VCR. Popcorn or Chips?”

Bruce smiled to himself as he flew into the night. “Surprise me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter. I’m hoping my chapters get longer, but I won’t jinx it by promising.
> 
> Skintight Batsuit = Animated Series Batsuit = Stealth and espionage over action.  
> You choose which version, or whichever is likely to give her that reaction to him.
> 
> Next, we’re getting back into the actual game of Arkham Origins! More Harleen/Harley time!
> 
> Hoping to get to Arkham Asylum by the time Arkham Knight comes out. I need to do something to pass the time.
> 
> My PSN is RihaanShim, in case you need a friend.


	5. Criminal Minds

“David Shannon.”

Vicki scrunched her eyebrows together, looking away from her friend. “Am I supposed to know that name?”

“No. But it’s one to remember. He’s the first victim of a new guy. He seems to go by the name ‘Enigma.’ When you get back to the cave, I need a new file created. I’ll deal with him later.” She heard an all too familiar shuffling through the phone, and a rush of air, and she knew that he had just stepped off of a building, and was currently soaring through the air. The noise was dimmed considerably after the take-off, as he had designed it to be. “Is Quinn okay?”

“She’s fine, as expected.” Vicki smiled. “Apparently, she was so distracted by our Christmas gifts that she didn’t notice what happened outside.”

“What? She didn’t notice? How…? Oh, the earbuds?”

“And now I know why you don’t trust them.” She sighed tiredly. She had no doubt he wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. Bruce wasn’t against the earbuds and Walkman that she had gotten the slightly younger blonde, but he had warned her that she would abuse the volume to a point that she’d be ignorant to the outside world. He was more thinking along the lines of not being able to hear them when they called, by phone or in the mansion, but on this scale…

“Seriously, what happened?” Harleen almost yelled, her eyes wide. She marched out the door into her adjoining office and straight into the hallway. “Oh my…” Her mouth gaped at the destruction she saw in the hallway. While she was nowhere near the prison cells, it was obvious that a path had been led through by a rather raucous group. “I didn’t hear a thing,” she muttered to herself, disbelievingly. She found herself leaning on the wall. “Not a damn  _thing_.” Vicki had followed her, and her quick hands were the only thing that stopped her from sliding down the wall, her legs giving out. She pulled the girl into a hug.

“It’s okay, dear Harley,” she cooed into her girlfriend’s ear. “It’s okay. You’re safe. The door was locked, and if they tried to break it in, you would have heard it. You’re okay.” No response. She pulled back, concerned. “Harleen?”

“You called me Harley…” she whispered, her hands tightening around herself. “I like it,” she quickly clarified, noting the worrying look Vicki had.

“Are you sure? I know you never liked that name.”

“You’re not making fun of me when you say that name, right?” She let out a dry chuckle. “You say it out of love, Vicki. Unlike my old classmates, you actually  _get_ to ride the Harley, not just saying it to piss me off. And I like ‘Quinn’, but Harley sounds more… girlish, y’know?”

Vicki hugged the doctor again, glad to have the girl’s sense of humor back, even though it was a bit forced. “I promise.”

“I know that door wasn’t locked, by the way.” Harley muttered, breaking up the hug. “But thanks for trying to make me feel better. I could’ve taken them, no sweat. Stuffed their heads into my new oven. It can probably fit up to four.”

Vicki laughed, despite herself. “There’s the Quinn I remember,” she smiled genuinely, grabbing the blonde’s hand. “Feel like taking the night off?”

The blonde’s face fell. “I don’t think I can,” she said gloomily. “I’m the most senior medical staff member here tonight. Technically,” she glanced around, “I’m  _supposed_ to be in charge.”

“You’re not in charge of security,” Vicki replied firmly. “Ambulances are already out in the front. There have been a number of casualties, but everyone else should be okay. Right now, though, Bruce needs our help. You up for it?”

Harley looked around one last time, before she looked firmly into Vicki’s eyes, her hand squeezing the older blonde’s. “What do we know so far?”

* * *

Harley’s fingers glided over the keyboard with ease, her fingers tapping merrily as she stared at the screens in front of her. “There we go. Enigma file created.” She leaned back a bit in her cushy roller chair. “Permission to freak out now?”

“I’ll allow it,” Vicki smiled grimly, standing beside her chair.

Harleen cleared her throat dramatically. “ _ASSASSINS_? Are you  _kidding_ me? You have to deal with  _Assassins_?!”

Bruce winced, not at the volume, but her tone. He was perched on top of a Gargoyle, patiently waiting for Penguin’s men to appear at the rendezvous point in the Plaza. “I’ll be fine, Quinn. I don’t think I’ll be back in time for dinner, but – ”

“ _Not_ the time for jokes, Bruce! We just saw the video. That chick snapped a man’s neck with her  _leg_! That guy just killed four officers with a single bullet! And you have to deal with Bane  _and_ Shiva? You – you’re … you’re stepping into hell, Bruce.” Her voice suddenly sounded meek. She deflated. “Nothing I say is going to change your mind. Be careful.”

“I have no intention of taking on all eight of them, and if I did, you  _know_ I’d be careful. It’ll take a lot more than that.”

“Sure,” Vicki murmured. She didn’t sound too positive about the entire thing. The things that she saw in that video… she didn’t know how Bruce didn’t enter shock when he watched it the first time.

However, he had signed up for this, and he knew something like this could happen, and prepared accordingly.

And she’d be damned if she lost him on Christmas Eve.

She now had a choice. She could go out under the guise of Vicki Vale, investigative journalist, and gather as much information as she could, for Bruce’s sake. It wouldn’t be the first time. She could broadcast through the radio, any potential attacks that the assassins will undoubtedly provoke to get his attention, and get him to arrive before they’re sufficiently prepared. This had proven to be a very productive strategy in the past.

There was a problem, however, that made this situation different from before; while the city of Gotham was virtually stuck at home (this would have been the perfect time for ratings), most of the power was off tonight, so she would be stuck to video recordings – Besides, if she tried to do live coverage of something she shouldn’t be seeing, it would be pretty easy to locate her – she was usually in her helicopter, safely out of harm’s way, and while she could do a lot of things, reporting, filming, and piloting a copter was one of those things she couldn’t do at once. It was safe to say that she didn’t have to really work tonight. Her boss would be breathing down her neck if he himself weren’t curled up in front of a fire at home – he probably didn’t even know what was going on.

Her crew had ran straight for the exit back at the prison when she went to find the security room, and she doubted they would come back to her if she called for them. They were loyal enough to a point, but this snowstorm, combined with escaped criminals and ‘rumored’ assassins, was far and beyond past the point.

For the rest of the night, she would be on her own.

“Harleen,” Vicki began, and the doctor looked back over her shoulder and waited for her next words. “I need all the information that we have on Roman Sionis – especially his businesses. I need everything you can find on Janus Cosmetics and the Merchants Bank. If there is anything that looks the least bit interesting, I need to see it. We’re taking this son of a bitch down.”

Harleen nodded, turning back to the computer. “Done. I guess you’re heading back out?”

Vicki was far more aware and in tune with Harley’s emotions more than the young girl could ever imagine. She heard the light tremor in her voice, and knew that the thought scared her as much as Bruce being out there.

She quietly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her dear friend’s shoulders; to her credit, she only jumped a little. “A little later, Harley. I have some work to do.” She kissed the side of the doctor’s head. “I’ll leave Bruce to the dangerous stuff. I’m taking the desk-job tonight.” She smirked a bit. “Got a problem with that?”

She hummed happily to herself in a negative fashion. “No complaints here!”

Vicki chuckled at the bespectacled blonde’s exuberance. “You’d go crazy without me, Quinn.”

The doctor shrugged, unconcerned. “Nah. I’d be  _ sane_ without you two. You just brought me down to your level.”

“You’re welcome,” the disembodied voice sounded in her ear. “Put me on speaker if you both plan on sticking around.”

When the doctor acquiesced, Batman spoke his plan to them. “The drone I found at the prison belonged to Cobblepot. If I find out where he is, I find Sionis and  _convince_ him to call off the hit. Penguin’s arranging an arms deal here. His men will be here shortly.”

“Even if he calls off the hit, I’m ruining him,” Vicki spoke with conviction. “The second I find any shady information about his business, it’s over for him.”

“That may be a problem,” Harley muttered, almost to herself. She pointed to one of the many monitors she was currently working on. “According to this, Black Mask is dead.”

The batcave was deadly silent, were it not for the whirring of technology around them. Even the bats above their heads seemed to understand the significance of the silence, and not a screech was squeaked out.

“What?” the standing blonde finally questioned her.

“Apparently, there was a murder at Lacey Towers, in his safe house. Tiffany Ambrose, his girlfriend, was murdered, and The Black Mask’s remains were found. This isn’t a rumor or anything. This is the GCPD police report.”

“He seemed okay to me an hour ago,” Batman spoke after a pregnant pause. “I may not have been able to see his face, but… hold on. Remains? Did they confirm the identity as Roman Sionis?”

“Let me see… No, they didn’t. He was burned badly, his mask fused into his skin. They’re analyzing his blood. They have a type, but we have nothing to compare it to – we don’t have Sionis’ blood or prints on file, and even if they have his blood, they wouldn’t think to compare it to Black, Mask’s. I’m sending you the report now.”

“Got it.” He leaned back comfortably on the gargoyle in front of the clock tower, his attention on the image projection in front of him, his peripheral on the rendezvous point of the Ammunitions deal. There were no images that accompanied the police report. “They discovered this a few hours ago. The estimated time of the crime happened a week before.” He pondered to himself. “It could have been one of his safe houses, and it’s just a nameless henchman. But why would he send one of his lovers to a safe house? And why would Penguin’s prints be there?”

“He might’ve been there to brag,” the psychiatric evaluation specialist pointed out. “He can’t let his biggest competitor die without a few parting words.”

“Would he leave his prints at a crime he committed?” Vicki voiced her concerns. “And if the crime scene is badly burned, where would they find fingerprints? Something doesn’t add up.”

“Ah! Here we go.” Quinn forwarded the crime scene photos to Bruce, before expanding them across the screen.

Vicki studied them for a moment, before she raised an eyebrow. “The way she was hung on the chandelier, like she’s some kind of angel… could she have been caught cheating on Roman with the bodyguard? His henchmen wear those masks, too.”

“That would make sense,” Harleen muttered to herself.

“So that picture stuck out the most to you as well, huh?” Bruce asked them over the speaker.

“It’s impossible to not stick out,” Vicki crossed her arms. “Why do you ask? What are you thinking?”

“Could be nothing,” he muttered. “I’m running through a myriad of scenarios in my head right now. It could be an assassin wanting their payment early, and sending a message. It could be a simple situation of Penguin eliminating his competition, and a case of mistaken identity. But that is not the real Black Mask.” He zoomed into the picture, which was mirrored on their end through his view. “There isn’t a back to the mask. His hair is visible. It’s a regular, henchman mask. Roman wears a full head mask.”

The three reflected on his words, pondering what to do next. Vicki moved to the chair next to Harley, and leaned forward. “The Black Mask is a greedy man, we know that.” She glanced over to her companion, who stared back, curious. “He wouldn’t let this go. He couldn’t. I doubt he cares about one of his henchmen, but Tiffany is one of  _his_ girls. After an assassination attempt, would Sionis just… let it go? Would he really be focused on  _you_ right now? You haven’t bothered him in a while… so why would he be going after you on such a grand scale?”

“I… don’t think he knows, actually.” Harley pointed back to the picture. “If Sionis knew about either of them, he’d have the mess cleaned up. Come to think of it, if it was Penguin, he would have cleaned it up, too. If it was even an assassin, they would have cleaned it up if they had any sense.” She looked at another of the pictures. “They’d at least close the balcony door if they wanted the whole crime scene to burn. It’s been snowing non-stop for two weeks, and the crime scene shows it. Maybe… the person who committed this crime…  _wanted_ someone to find it?”

Batman thought furiously to himself, his keen mind calculating every bit of information in the images. He stopped abruptly as something caught his attention; the dealers and buyers had arrived at the spot. “I need to go there. This whole scene doesn’t add up; almost like it was staged.”

He turned off the display and crouched up to a kneeling position. “Once I get Oswald’s location, I get Black Mask’s. But before I get to him, I’ll investigate the crime scene.”

They understood the meaning of his words – he had no ammunition to stop Roman from calling off the hit. There was a lot of potential of what they could find there. They had no idea what they could find, but every little bit helps.

The clock struck nine. The bell gonged thunderously through the listless city, the echoes of the almost joyous sound travelling in solitude – The Christmas Spirit was nowhere to be found outside, in the almost subzero temperatures. It was a truly unwell season, culminating to this night. The dealer, leaning forward on his throne, his Santa hat perched on his bald head, smiled a toothy grin, his almost poetic words meaning nothing to the other thugs around him, but he preached anyway. He was the only one into the special time that was Christmas, and he was just fine that way. It was time for his Christmas Bonus.

His eyes glimmered upwards to the Clocktower’s chime, and his breath caught, before he saw no more.

Harleen handed her girlfriend a flash drive. “This is all the information we have so far. Embezzlement funds, incomplete tax returns, bribes to the Commissioner, some recent checks cashed by henchmen, links to offshore accounts… I don’t know who’s managing his cash, but they make it so easy, it feels like cheating.”

“He wouldn’t trust anyone with his money,” the blonde said easily. “As always, he’ll only have himself to thank. Great work, Harleen.”

“Oh, hold on… what’s this? Oh! It is! Let’s see… a recent fifty two million dollar withdrawal from one of his accounts. I’m willing to bet the two mil is for processing fees and extra security.”

“And that leaves fifty million dollars unaccounted for.” Vicki rested her hand on Harleen’s shoulder. “This is just what we needed.”

Harley pulled out a small, nondescript memory card. “Should I?”

Vicki shrugged. “Might as well tell them what we know. It’s not like they would release the information.”

The doctor nodded and slid the memory card into the slot. “Copying information now.”

“Good work, Harleen,” Batman muttered, over minimal static.

_“You’re crazy, man! You’re freaking crazy!”_

The Caped Crusader ignored the man known as ‘Loose Lips’ in favor of the information on his cellphone. “Penguin is somewhere in Gotham, but he seems to be untraceable. Can you search for any strange places in the area? I’ll look from above.”

“Alright,” she said uneasily, tapping slowly. “Should I ask what you did to make that guy scream like that?”

“I dropped him on a Christmas tree.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t have,” Harley said with a smile.

“Sometimes, I think he delivers it in that voice because he knows it’s funny,” Vicki noted, her grin wide.

“I’ll neither confirm nor deny.” He landed on top of a tall smokestack, and covered his mouth from the billowing smoke. “I see a large cargo ship off the coast of the amusement mile.”

“That may be it,” Harley muttered. “It would explain why I’m having a hard time finding him in Gotham.”

“I would hope that’s the place. It’s got snipers.”

“Snipers? And no one’s reporting this on the police scanner?” Vicki wondered incredulously. “Hold on… what would he need snipers for? To protect himself from the assassins?”

“If he was worried about the assassins, he wouldn’t be putting out snipers on display,” the doctor pointed out. She noticed a banner on the screen, through Batman’s cowl display.  _‘Fifty percent off_?’ Oh! His guns!”

“That makes sense. He’s protecting his ammunitions, and he’s about to sell it all off.” The Dark Knight grimaced. “I have to stop this. Once I get my information, call Gordon. That’ll keep him off me for a while.”

“I think he would still be at the police station, with Loeb’s body. I don’t think he’d be after you for a few hours yet. Are you sure you want to give him the credit?”

“Good point. Send it to Renée.”

Harleen nodded approvingly. “Now that’s someone I’d like to see rise in the ranks.”

“You’d see her any way you could,” Vicki whispered. Harley began to blush, but didn’t comment. “I wouldn’t mind a night with Miss Montoya myself.”

“That makes three of us,” Bruce muttered, surveying the armed thugs. “At the last charity fundraiser, we flirted for a while, and she told me her girlfriend had a crush on me.”

The younger blonde gasped in surprise. “Did you get an invitation?”

“That would have been rude to the date I was with, Quinn,” he said in an amused tone. “Though, they had been eyeing each other all evening. We probably could have made an arrangement, but there was a shootout at Maroni’s restaurant. I had to bow out early.”

“This is  _exactly_ why you need a sidekick,” she muttered.

“I’ll take it into consideration. Going into radio silence.” When he didn’t hear a response, he clicked off and jumped from the ledge, gliding straight for the lookout sniper.

“Here ya go,” Harley beamed, handing over the memory card. “I recommend copying the information to your laptop. Wouldn’t want the card to stay inserted for too long.”

Vicki quickly thanked her and left. “Alone again,” she sighed, leaning on her hands. “I wish I brought my oven with me…”

“You haven’t checked your room yet, have you?” Bruce chuckled into the intercom.

“Wow. That was quick.”

“They were easy. Heading into the boiler deck. Going back into radio silence. I shouldn’t need you for an hour or so, so don’t feel obligated to stay in the cave. Take your tablet with you, in case.”

“Roger that,” Harley pushed herself away from the desk. “I’ll stay close-by; I think I’ve opened enough presents to last me till morning. And I’ll be sure not to listen to any music until then. Have fun.”

Batman  _hmph_ ’ed to himself. Harley was practically convinced that he was having fun doing this. He wasn’t sure himself, but sometimes; it didn’t feel like a job, and it was far more than fulfilling.

He opened the door and strode into the well-lit room. He knew Penguin’s process, and there it was in front of him. Two men, with their backs turned towards the door, their knives forgotten on the table beside them.

He dispatched of them quickly, and pressed on.

 


End file.
